


Me or The Book

by ItzOopaMaBoiz



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Breakup, Disagreement, M/M, Sad, Sam is curious, Slight Violence, argument, elliott is a bitch, ive never written stardew valley plz have mercy, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItzOopaMaBoiz/pseuds/ItzOopaMaBoiz
Summary: Elliott has been much, much too secretive about his latest writing project, leading Sam to a curiosity that backfires and explodes in his face.
Relationships: Sam/Elliott (Stardew Valley)
Kudos: 5
Collections: Oopa and Casper's Writing Challenges!!





	Me or The Book

**Author's Note:**

> #1 of the Oopa and Casper writing challenges! I hope you enjoy, and check out [Caspie's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostqueennotmean/pseuds/ghostqueennotmean) profile, she has tons of amazing works that inspire me every day.

Sam could feel the warmth of the man that enveloped him as he woke, a warmth that he adored and snuggled deeper into with a yawn as he tried to enjoy every ounce of it. He felt his partner shift, smiling softly as he too yawned. Sam laid his head to the man's bare chest, listening to his breathing as he began to fade in and out of consciousness. He felt a soothing hand touch his forehead, as Elliott always did when he woke up. Sam yawned again, looking up at his husband bleary-eyed.

“Good morning, sunshine,” the amber-haired man said, and Sam yawned yet again, wondering how his voice could be so silky-smooth when he’d just woken up.

“..mooooooooooornin, sweetcheeks.” He laughed at the face Elliott made- he always flushed deep red and puffed his cheeks out at the nickname- and sat up, stretching. “How’d you sleep?”

Elliott ran a hand through his hair, pulling the tangled mess out of his face and smiling. “Slept okay. You were sticking your freezing cold feet on me all night. I don’t know how they can just  _ never _ be warm, it’s abnormal.” The ginger smooched Sam on the forehead before hauling himself out of bed, stretching slowly and going to the dresser to get dressed. 

Sam smiled at the view he was given, popping his back. He leaned over the bed, grabbing his pyjama pants and pulling them on, earning an almost disgusted look from his prim and proper husband. He walked over to the man, who was buttoning up his shirt, and stood on tiptoes, hugging him from behind. Eliott grabbed his hand, chuckling silently at the ticklish feeling on his neck from Sam’s breath. Elliott turned to face him, twirling in a way that let him continue to hold his hand, and smiled. 

“Are you always this beautiful?” Elliott leaned down slightly, long knotted hair making a curtain around their faces as he gave his husband a kiss. Sam smiled into it, chuckling and then laughing, having to break away to catch his breath. Elliott stared, confused, smiling awkwardly. “What’s on with you, dear?”

Sam calmed his laughing fit, taking a breath before looking back up happily. “Just found it funny that you made a disgusted face at me and then called me beautiful ten seconds later. Flip-flop minded, are we? Fine, I’ll put on some ‘real clothes’.” Sam gave Elliott a teasing kiss before walking over to his section of the dresser, pulling open drawers to get changed.

Elliott smirked and finished buttoning his shirt. “You  _ are _ beautiful, even with your…  _ questionable _ dressing choices.” Sam scoffed, grinning.

“ _ Questionable? _ I just wanna wear my pyjamas some more, I have nowhere to be, so there’s no sense in dirtying up more clothes.” He heard Elliott shuffle around by his own drawers as he was pulling his band tee over his head, and felt something soft but heavy hit him in the chest. He pulled his shirt on and looked down at the offender before chuckling and picking up the pyjama pants that he’d left on the floor, tossing them into the clothes hamper. 

“Thank you~” Elliott sang, walking over to give Sam another kiss. Sam melted into it, holding the boys arms as they parted with a loving smile. “Well, it’s your day to make breakfast. I'm going to go write in the garden, call me when you’re ready, okay?” Sam nodded, smiling, watching his husband leave the room with a grin. Sam finished getting ready, pulling on his cartoon character themed socks and slipping his feet into slippers that, once upon a time, belonged to Elliott. Sam had long since stolen them, though. They were soft!

Sam shuffled his way into the kitchen, immediately turning on the coffee pot that he knew Elliott had prepared before going outside. He always did, but he could never remember to push the button. Sam yawned, pulling down his mug and setting it down in preparation before opening the fridge. He pulled out the eggs and bacon, grabbing the butter as well after a last minute craving for toast came to mind. He grabbed the pans, turning on the stove and getting to work.

He liked cooking, he wouldn’t lie. The window in front of the sink just a few feet away gave him a perfect view into Elliott’s garden, where he could watch the man write and read. Elliott was working on a book; he didn't say much about it, but he worked endlessly on it. Sam was curious- there were times when he wanted to snatch the book to see what Elliott was writing about, but Elliott always carried it with him. Sam couldn't blame him, it would be horrible to lose the book with how much effort he was putting into it, but Sam wanted to know what he was writing nonetheless. 

He pulled the bacon off of the heat, picking it up and placing it onto the plates before cracking eggs into the still-bubbling grease. He looked out the window; Elliott was writing again. He looked very distracted, sucked into the book as his hand flew across the page with vigour, and Sam sighed. He loved Elliott,  _ so _ much. He was so glad to have met him, so thankful that the quiet man actually talked to him. But the closed off book bothered him, for some reason. Elliott never gave any reason for why he wouldn’t show Sam, just always refused. Secrets scared Sam, even though he figured there was no reason to be concerned, it just made him feel bad. 

He gathered up the plates, carrying them outside to the table Elliott was seated at. He set Elliott’s plate down, startling the man and making him slam his book closed with a yelp. Elliott looked up at Sam with a look that was almost angry. “Why didn’t you  _ call _ me like I asked? Would appreciate some  _ warning,  _ thank you.” Sam frowned, looking down at the closed book before setting his own plate down. He hugged his arms, looking away.

“Sooooo _ -ry, _ I’ll scream at you next time.” With that he went back inside to get his coffee, frowning. That damned book, the only time Elliott ever acted like that at all was when he had that  _ damned _ book. He made his coffee, somewhat angry now, and all but stomped back outside, only to see Elliott looking extremely guilty. The ginger stood and Sam sat his coffee down, staring at his husband quietly, curiously. Elliott took a deep breath.

“You know, I love the way you look at me.” Sam flinched, confused, and Elliott held up a hand. “ _ Not _ how you’re looking at me now, no, I hate that look of disappointment, anger, even resentment. I hate making you look at me like that. I love the way you  _ normally _ look at me. The way you looked at me this morning. The love in your eyes. I love it as much as I love you.” Elliott moved to reach for Sam’s chin, but he took a step back, drawing in a breath of confidence.

“I want to see what’s in the book.”

_ “Wha-  _ what?” Elliott took a step back himself, looking at Sam in confusion, eyes flicking to the book on the table.

“ _ I want. To see. What’s in. The book.”  _ Sam repeated, pointing at it. His expression was fierce but inside he was shaking, worried he would be pushing past an uncrossable line. Elliott’s face was showing so many emotions at once that Sam couldn’t place them, and that only worried him more.

“You  _ know _ that’s personal, Sam-”

“I know, but  _ so are we _ , and the way you act when you have that book is scaring me! What are you keeping in there?” Sam could feel his chest hurting as tears tried to form, and he did his best not to explode then and there with all the pent up emotion he had around that book. Elliott grabbed the book, tucking it into his sweater and tugging on it as if to shake off the negativity.

“If it was important, I would tell you. I’m going to the museum, I need a break from.. This.” Elliott said everything with no emotion, and Sam felt the tears forming, his eyes beginning to burn as he stared incredulously. 

“No, Elliott, I want to know what’s in the book. Why can’t I see it?  _ Why won’t you tell me what you’re writing?!” _ He froze as his voice rose, but it was too late. Elliot looked at him again, angry.

“ **_Because it is none of your goddamn business!_ ** I  _ hate  _ when you do this,  _ god _ , sometimes I wish I’d never even met you!” Elliott stomped inside, still tugging on his sweater, and Sam hurried behind him, not caring about the tears that were pouring down. 

“What- what- what do you  _ mean,  _ you don’t really mean that, do you, Elliott?” Sam felt his heart cracking as Elliott began to pack his suitcase, and he walked over to the other side of the bed. “Elliott, it’s just a fucking  _ book, _ if it’s not important than  _ why don’t you show me?” _

Sam heard the smack before he felt it, the stinging sensation covered his cheek with pain and regret. He felt blood running down his cheek, cut by the stone on Elliott’s engagement ring. He looked at Elliott, holding his cheek as tears mixed with blood, pink liquid dripping onto their white bedsheet. Elliott wasn’t looking at him, he was looking past him, at the wall, angry tears filling his eyes as well. Sam didn’t care anymore, he knew something was up. He knew now that Elliot  _ was _ hiding something, something important, and that was on Elliott. 

The ginger zipped his suitcase, grabbing his notebooks that sat on his bedside table and pulling the suitcase off of the bed. He said nothing, walking out of the bedroom and back to the front door. Sam felt his heart cracking further, and he grabbed his husband's sleeve, stopping him at the doorway. Elliott looked back at him, anger adamant on his face, but something else, too.

“...I’m going to stay at Leah’s for a while.” Sam felt another crack in his heart, wincing out loud but not letting go.

“If you walk out that door, we’re done. If that book means  _ that _ much to you, more than me, more than  _ us,  _ then leave. But don’t come back.” Sam’s brows were furrowed, face now drenched in both anger  _ and _ fear, and Elliott paused for a second, looking into his lover’s eyes for a moment. He went slack, almost setting the suitcase down.

But then he looked away. He closed his eyes tightly, ripping his arm out of Sam’s grip and walking out of the open door, kicking the doorstop out from under it and letting it close behind him.

Sam fell to the ground with a sob, feeling his heart break finally, all the way through.


End file.
